Almost Again
by 0utfoxed
Summary: Out there on the open road is the only time when he's truly at peace. Not running away from the world, exactly. Only seeking escape from it for a brief moment..


**Almost Again**

_"If everything's a dream.."  
__"...don't wake me."_

The fields again. Riding past the meadows on the outskirts of the city, they seem more vibrant than he recalls, the colours almost too bright, as though he has emerged inside a vivid watercolour painting through which he has been allowed to journey as he races the wind on the boundless path before him. And yet, as alluring as the landscape appears, it seems like the only way to for him to appreciate it now is at speed, when it's all a blur rushing by.

Overtaking a weather-beaten pickup truck, the only other vehicle he's seen for miles, he turns another corner. Minutes lapse into hours as he burns down one road after another. It doesn't matter where he's headed, as long as he's moving.

He's not certain what it is that he's seeking out here. Solace? Perhaps. All he knows is that out here is the only time when he's able to take his mind off the past and simply live in the moment.

He sees the sunset on the horizon as he approaches the city. The wind has died down, and now something else is brushing against his skin. There is the sensation of pale, slender fingers wrapping around his waist, and he feels someone leaning against him, resting her head on his shoulder. He smiles.

"Hey," he greets her.

Though he can't hear a reply, he knows that, for a fleeting moment, he's not alone out here. The signs are subtle, but unmistakable. The touch of her skin brushing up against his. Her faint breathing. The aroma of fresh-cut tulips and forget-me-nots, like the ones she used to sell on the streets of Old Midgar.

He considers risking the briefest of peeks at his passenger, but decides against it. Too much, and the illusion will be shattered, he knows, so he doesn't risk it. This moment is too precious to throw it away by asking too much all at once.

Abandoning the temptation to catch a glimpse of her out of the corner of his eye, he revs the engine instead, taking the next turn into the meadowlands adjacent to the city, her presence subtly magnified by the increasing speed.

The shadows deepen as the sun sinks beneath the horizon, painting their surroundings a brilliant crimson. As the world fades away, he can no longer tell whether he's waking or sleeping, or whether it even matters. For the moment, it's just the open road, and the two of them.

* * *

By the time he arrives at his destination, he's alone again. Pulling up to the 7th Heaven's driveway, he sees that the lights are out, and that his family are all assuredly asleep by now.

Perhaps he's being selfish, he thinks, but part of him hopes that the illusion will last longer the next time. That, one day, the dream will become reality, and that this life will turn out to have been the dream, after all. That perhaps he'll wake up one day to find her safe and sound, in the company of good friends.

That's not how the world works, he knows, but sometimes he can't help but wonder. As the years go by, these moments grow more frequent. The times when he can hear voices whispering in the wind. The times when he feels like he's seen her shadow, just at the edge of perception. Is she truly there, or are these just the signs of a weary mind unravelling?

As he pushes the door open to head inside, he looks down the alleyway to see what looks like a spark of green embers cascading from a broken pipe trailing down the wall, lighting the hue of a familiar shape.

Curious, he walks over, but finds nothing there. A mere trick of the light. Looking around again, all he can see is the grimy, neon-lit street.

Casting one last glance towards the far end of the road, he heads back to the 7th Heaven's entrance. Although no discernible change can be marked, the world seems a little brighter, his burden a little easier to carry. He can sense it, now. She's out there, somewhere, waiting for him. He sees the open road, still beckoning.

He smiles again, giving them one last nod, before heading back inside.

"'till next time."

* * *

**A/N:**

Just a short piece today. More spirited writing efforts coming soon.

Title cribbed from a Strapping Young Lad song.


End file.
